Crust

Among Sadist's varied discography, this record always stands out to me as the highlight. To me, it's the most thematically unified, sonically consistent, and generally intriguing. Granted, it's weird. It's certainly strayed from death metal, focusing on groovy riffs and atmosphere rather than brutality or technicality. No blast beats and hardly any thrash beats. Fewer progressive elements than the two albums that came before. So what does Crust have to offer?

Death metal is often musical commentary on violence that results in literal mutilation and death. But in this case, it's very clear by the tracks' titles that this album zeroes in on sexual violence, resulting in psychological mutilation and spiritual death. It dives into the psyche of unchecked, unfeeling male impulses. The product is a lifeless, industrial hellscape that enslaves both the progenitor and the victim. Even the album art is an abstract portrayal of penetration, which cleverly matches the industrial aesthetic that's very prevalent from start to finish.

Now, it's hard to say what exactly Sadist was trying to communicate, as often is the case when the lyrics aren't written in the band's primary language. However, it lands on me as mutual destruction, even to perpetrator, as he thrusts himself into further confusion—further into "the world I dream" (opening line of Perversion Lust Orgasm). His humanity is completely gone by the end of the album, metamorphed into a killing machine. He has denied his personhood, succumbing to violent desire and committing psychological suicide.

What does this sound like? Crust brought far more keyboard than Tribe or Above The Light, but subtly. Rather than the bursts of riffs we've observed in the past, they soar over the guitar lines almost continually. Oftentimes, they're strings or flutes, but you'll also hear cyber-esque synths, typical in genres like aggrotech. Unlike before, the keys shouldn't be considered another leading voice like an additional guitar. Instead, it weaves itself more into the background, coalescing atmosphere and the pumping guitar tracks into a single entity. Makes sense since Tommy Talamanca does both (even at the same time, which baffles me). For the guitars, they're anything but the unremarkable chugs that much symphonic metal cranks out. They stand on their own, still driving most of the music. We do camp more on the lower strings this time around, but there's real dissonant fretwork, bizarrely accented rhythms, and solos throughout. In the moments when they take a back seat, they hand the reins to the keys and bass, ebbing and flowing. Without the synths, we'd miss a dimension that guitars and bass alone can't communicate. Then the instrumental tracks and keyboard breaks remind me of the Akira soundtrack: It carries both a dystopian spirit as well as a something meditative. It's a fascinating juxtaposition with the album's theme.

I believe a common complaint is the drums. They are minimal compared to the past, which is the kind of thing that drives my drummer friends insane—especially hearing this from a band that's capable of progressive rhythmic feats. You just don't hear that in this album. And honestly, considering the atmosphere, it feels weird to expect it. I understand why people would feel miffed by that. Did Sadist become lazy? It feels more focused than lazy to me, making the previous two records seem more ADHD than this ultra-concentrated work.

Now to my favorite part: The bass is far more separated from the guitar than the keys; it's really fascinating. It's mixed in such a way that the rapid finger-work sounds like alien chattering. It's nasty! While the progressive elements are fewer, they're still here, and the bass carries almost all of them. A particularly amazing moment is the jazzy solo in the middle of Obsession-Compulsion, but this album is less about moments and more about the whole. Just listen to the bass, and you'll be quite amazed.

The vocals are also more consistent, as Trevor Nadir performs them from this point onward. You get a mix of raspy shrieks and lower growls, which brings great dynamic. Most harsh vocalists tend to have one favored tone, but he performs both rather exceptionally, and I find that rare. Even some unhinged screaming and whining at times, which might put off some listeners, but he does that sparingly, so I think it works. You can tell he's less experienced than in future work, but the vocals drop in and bring the dirt regardless.

The things that make this album less than perfect is the lack of low-end in the production. If the kicks had *just* a little more thump, it would smash so much harder (whoops, a little pun there). And compared to their other studio albums, this one sounds strangely quiet, so I turn the speakers up one notch more. Not a terrible issue.

To sum it up, every part of the band works so closely with the other instruments, handing off the leads back and forth. It's difficult to even choose specific tracks as highlights as they all bring something distinct to the record as a whole. This album is strong in subtlety, groove, and atmosphere while tumbling forward relentlessly—an atypical combination within death metal. I don't believe brutality serves the topic. After all, sexual violence can be invisible, carried within the soul. One could see your face and never know the death you've tasted.